


Healing the Wounds

by Cryerrytiem



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Asexual Character, Cute, First Dates, Gay, Lesbian Character, M/M, POV First Person, Psychological Trauma, ex-army
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-13
Updated: 2015-04-19
Packaged: 2018-03-12 05:28:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3345287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cryerrytiem/pseuds/Cryerrytiem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Coffee shop Drarry AU. Draco is sick of the stupid advances and disappointments that the men interested in him often cause. But when an intriguing new customer makes an entrance, something causes the wariness to wane.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> so this is going to be a set of chapters, that i'll upload whenever I get the chance. 
> 
> please leave any criticism or good shit or whatever in the comments 
> 
> I really hope you like this work 
> 
> CAUSE WHO DOESN'T LIKE CUTE DRACO AND HARRY STUFF AWH

June

The first time I saw him was the first day of summer. There had been lazy showers of rain, on and off for what seemed to be weeks on end, but I distinctly remember the sun shining as he walked in through the door of the coffee shop.

The first thing I noticed was his hair, a mass of rebellious, untameable dark curls that all but begged for fingers to run through them. Round rimmed glasses sat on a slightly crooked nose, and below that, a mischievous grin lit up his face, white teeth flashing in contrast to the tan skin. Although they weren't what first came into view, his eyes were most definitely the most distinctive, if not intriguing feature he possessed; bright green iris', framed with dark, thick lashes that fluttered behind his glasses' lenses. He was tall, but shorter than me, with broad shoulders and obvious muscle beneath his clothing. I remember the loosely fitting blue parka he wore, and even more clearly do I remember the tightly fitted blue jeans that hugged his legs perfectly. Trailing beside him were two people, - obviously a couple - one with plain, wavy hair and thin, set lips as if she'd heard something entirely idiotic, and the other, to whom she clung, with a mop of ginger hair and more than his fair share of chub around the waist. They took a seat near the front, and sat discussing - or so I imagined - what they would be having.

I looked to my left, at my co-workers, Pansy and Blaise, who were giggling amongst themselves. "What are you laughing about?" I left my post at the till for a moment to interrupt their fun as usual, considering our boss, Mr Snape always seemed to blame me whenever they were up to something. "Your face," Pansy tried to hide her smirk delicately with her hand, but her shoulders bobbed, causing her hair to jiggle in the most irritating way. "Draco," Blaise picked up from where she left off, though he didn't bother trying to hide his amusement and stood confidently in front of me, one hand on his hip and the other tapping rhythmically on the top of the counter, "you look like a girl who's just seen Leonardo DiCaprio undress. Honestly, look at yourself."

So I turned to see what they were on about using the microwave, considering it was the only reflective surface near enough to use. They were right, much to my dismay. My pale face was flushed, a splattering of red over my cheeks and neck, and my eyes had a sheen that was unmistakably from not blinking for a long period of time. I forced myself to blink rapidly and pouted, turning away from them with an irritated comment about how I had more of a chance with Leo than either of them, and went back to leaning casually on the main counter, separating cups into the correct sizes and pens into height order.

"Excuse me, blondie," a voice sounded behind me. I jumped, surprised by the suddenness of the sound and span around so quickly I almost fell. Catching myself on the edge of the counter, I found that I was staring at the messy haired, green eyed boy who'd brought on the flush that Pansy and Blaise had been mocking me for only moments ago. I was stuck staring at the amused, if not expectant smile he wore. I watched his eyes flicker about, taking in my face - and probably this awful expression that screamed 'oh God help me, an attractive male is staring at me' - before moving down to rake over the lines of my body, mostly concealed by the black apron I wore.

Dragging myself out of my unwanted stupor, I cleared my throat and stood up properly, brushing down my apron. "Can I help you?" My fingers instinctively grabbed my favourite pen, twirling effortlessly over my fingers. "A regular cup of tea, a small caramel frappuccino and a large black coffee." "To go or sit in?" "To go - I'm not a big fan of proper cups. I always seem to break them." I didn't have to look up to know he was grinning. I grabbed the relevant cups and with my teeth, pulled off the lid of the pen.

"What's the name?" I asked, my speech slurred around the lid held in my teeth. "Harry. Potter. Harry Potter. What about you?" I looked up then, brow raised at the situation I was now a part of. I tapped the end of the pen to my name tag and marked out the cups, putting them on the counter beside me for Blaise to make up. "Do you want them on tab or pay up front?" He slid across a twenty pounds note in silent response to the question. "I'll bring them over when they're done with your change. Thank you, Harry," I drawled on, putting the lid back on the pen and slipping it into the pot. "Thank _you_ , Draco."

As he walked away, I felt Pansy press into my back like a boa constrictor would against its prey. I could envision her sly grin as she wrapped her arms around me, fixing me in place for what I knew would be another 'you go get him, tiger' lecture. I sighed, ignoring her best I could and picked up the money when a small piece of card slipped out from behind it and on to the floor. As fast as lightning, she released me and dived for the card, staying bent behind the counter to conceal herself from the customers. "It's his _business card_ , Dray," she all but gurgled with delight. "Tsk," I mumbled, irritated with the whole situation and her stupid nickname, and collected the correct change.

"Draco, don't be an idiot," Blaise rolled his eyes at me as the last cup was put on the tray. He scraped the change out of my palm and put it onto a saucer atop the receipt, and gestured for me to take it over. I rolled my eyes back at him mockingly, and lifted the tray with one hand, opening the small divider with the other and sauntered over to their table.  
  
"Tea?" I asked, and the ginger boy nodded to me. Handing him the cup, the girl spoke up. "Mine's the small frap, thanks," she smiled and reached up to pluck it from the tray, before I set down the coffee in front of the only man left. I set the saucer down in the middle of the table, thanked them and walked away.

I didn't throw away his card as I thought I should. I tucked it into the front pocket of my apron just as the afternoon rush began. I kept catching the messy haired man called Harry staring - though Pansy insisted the only way I was able to do so was that I was staring myself - but after he left, mid-rush, I forgot entirely about the card he'd given me. All that I remembered was the faint gleam of distant green eyes.

August

The next time I saw him, it was the hottest day of the year. Fans in the shop were on full blast and their noise blocked out the small sound of the bell that rang when a customer arrived. The shop was busy. Almost all tables were full, and it was alive with chatter, laughter and the occasional argument; I loved working in the summer months.

I ran a hand through my hair, which was half stuck to my forehead with condensation, before looking up and meeting a familiar, and intriguing pair of bright green eyes behind round rimmed glasses. "Hello again, Draco," he grinned. I desperately racked my brain to remember his name, and the only thing that I remembered was his surname. "Potter." It escaped my lips casually, and ignited a grin from the other man. "The same as before, if you remember," he winked and slid across another twenty pounds note, with a small, white card poking out from the edge of it.

So that's who he was. I nodded and picked up the money, going about the routine as usual. This time, I slipped the card into the pocket of my jeans. I noticed, as he walked away, his desperate grip on a crutch that hadn't been there before. He walked away with a very obvious limp, and I couldn't help but wonder what had happened.

When I delivered their drinks, I didn't think twice about giving them out. I knew who'd had what. They thanked me and as I snuck a peak over my shoulder when leaving, caught a ruffled, green eyed customer watching the casual sway of my hips. I smirked.

The day went on as usual. Those particular customers left quietly soon after I'd delivered to them their order. As I walked home through the darkening streets of London, I reached into my pocket for the card - only to find it wasn't there. Groaning loudly, I shrugged. It just wasn't meant to be.

September

The days were becoming colder, but the sun was still managing to rear its head every morning. Harry Potter, the boy with green eyes came in almost daily, but I was far too embarrassed to speak to him, having lost his number on two separate occasions.

One particularly warm day, Harry was last to leave. He shot me a sad smile across the room and shut the door behind him before I could even think about saying something. Pansy and Blaise skipped out early, leaving the cleaning to me, and I began to mop the stickiness of spilled drinks away. I threw paper cups in the bin as I went, and put up chairs that Blaise had forgotten with a disgruntled sigh, but I made it around the seating area in record time, a sweat breaking slightly on my brow.

I spotted a basket placed next to my bag as I walked in to the cramped staff room. Attached to it was a note, scrawled in hasty, inky pen-lines. 'It's your turn to wash the aprons, Malfoy. Get it done. Snape." I rolled my eyes, but slipped my bag over my shoulder and hoisted the basket up under the other ready to leave. I locked up silently, and walked home. I got there in ten minutes flat. Another record.

Kicking off my shoes, I dropped my bag on the bench near the door, still carrying the basket under my arm until I reached the kitchen. "Better now than never," I mumbled to myself, setting the basket down on the floor and kneeling behind it. I began to check the aprons over, putting my hand into the pocket to check for forgotten keys or discarded money. By the end of the search, I was an earring, four pounds and a piece of card up. I'd call around and see who the earring belonged to in the morning, but for the minute I was far too hungry to care. I threw the loot into a glass dish I kept for just this type of thing, and flicked the switch on my kettle to boil some water for my pasta.

As I leaned against the counter, the piece of card caught my attention. Why hadn't I thrown it straight into the bin? It picked at a corner of my mind, as if it were something forgotten. I reached out for it, the card cutting into my palm. Turning it around, I noticed there was a number, printed in bold, and my eyes skimmed up to see the name. _Harry James Potter_. Shit.

I stared in wonder at this until the kettle boiled, it's customary pop shaking me from my trance. After all this time, I finally found it - this tiny bit of paper that had caused internal arguments for months on end. 'Was it not meant to be? Or was it me being stupid and careless?'

The kettle boiled, deflating the heavy atmosphere my anxiety had created. I put down the card, deciding to deal with this all later, and made my meal.

I sat at the table, eating my food slowly and in my spare hand I was flipping the card back and forth between my fingers. My mind was a mess; do I call, text, not bother? It wasn't a rare occurrence that I found myself in the situation where I had this decision to make. Usually I threw away the card pretty easily, but I was inspired by his persistence, even when he wasn't here. A small 'meow' sounded, and I felt a warm, furry body press against my legs beneath the table. I smirked, plucked a piece of chicken out from between pieces of pasta, and held it out for him. Beans purred and grabbed the food from my hand, pouncing off to eat it in the kitchen.

I finished my pasta in silence, trying to ignore the nagging voice telling me to text the bloke and be done with it. I rinsed off the plate and put it in the dishwasher, before going out to slump onto the sofa, Beans jumping up to sit on my chest, his ginger fur brushing just beneath my nose. "What do you think, Beans? Do you think I should text him? Do you?" I cooed at the cat, who stared at me in distaste before meowing, batting my nose and jumping away - probably to ruin some more of my curtains.

I pulled my phone out of my pocket and got up to grab the card. Before I understood what I was doing, I'd put the number into my phone, not bothering to save it, and pulled up a blank text draft. 'Hi, it's me', I typed at first, but how would Potter know who 'me' was? I needed something smooth, apologetic and slightly alluring. I groaned as I realised I was none of these things.

_'Hi Harry, it's Draco - from the coffee shop. I'm so sorry I hadn't gotten in touch sooner - I lost your number. Twice. I hope it's not too late?'_

I hit send. It would have to do. I set the phone down on the coffee table, threw myself down into the armchair in disgust with myself, and turned the TV on to a rerun of 'Come Dine with Me'. My phone buzzed within minutes. I felt a small stirring in my stomach, and bit the inside of my cheek. "Honestly," I mumbled to myself, reaching for the device, "grow up, Draco."

' _It's fine, and you are certainly not too late, blondie! Twice? Are you really that clumsy? How was your day? Have you eaten yet?'_

I stared blankly at the message for a while, a frown starting to form. Did he always ask so many questions? I replied that, yes, I lost it twice, and yes, I was that clumsy, and that yes, I'd eaten - my day was average, even though I'd gotten stuck with washing the aprons. Before I knew it, it was one in the morning, and I was laughing or at very least, smiling at practically every message I received. I caught myself smiling at his latest message, and excused myself for the evening. I was tired, I told him, and tomorrow was my only day off.

_'No problem :) If you get some free time, maybe we could meet up?? Maybe not for coffee though x'_

I smirked and put the phone aside, feeling only slightly guilty at not answering him, but I honestly was tired. Beans meowed at me as I climbed into bed, not even bothering to slip into my pyjamas and just throwing myself down in my boxers. Tomorrow. I'd answer tomorrow.

*                                                                                             *                                                             *

It was noon before I even remembered I was supposed to text Harry back.  I'd managed to clean the entire apartment by eleven, and I popped out to get some shopping. I spotted my phone on the coffee table as I came in, but vowed to text him as soon as I'd put everything away.

I put the kettle on and all but ran out to grab my phone so that I could reply. _'Afternoon, Potter. About to have some tea. Managed to clean the apartment, so I'm free later. Maybe we could get some lunch? Definitely not coffee.'_ I hesitated before sending it. Was I ready so quickly to go out on a _date?_ We'd only been speaking for a day.

For some reason, the memory of every recent awful first date came into my head. Shaun, who was all hands, all the time. Alex, who talked about himself more than he breathed. Moody Max who thought he was too 'edgy' to call me back. I rolled my eyes, knowing that there were far more where they came from.

However, I'd spoken to all of those for weeks on end before meeting up with them, and what difference had it made? Riding the impulsiveness that surged through me, I added _'xx'_ to the end of the text and sent it. Quickly, I threw the phone from me, scared for the response, and padded out into the kitchen, making myself a soothing cup of camomile tea.

I heard the phone vibrate beneath the TV stand and jogged into the lounge once again, setting the cup down onto a coaster before having to lay flat on the floor and reach underneath the cabinet to retrieve the pesky device.

_'I'll pick you up at one, just text me the postcode :) xx'_

I checked my watch. Twelve thirty. Panic set in. "Oh _God,_ " I groaned aloud, jumping up from the floor where I'd been sprawled, almost slipping over the bloody cat, and dashed into my bedroom. I began to pull out all my clothes. "Oh God, oh God, oh God," I chanted as if it were a mantra, trying to soothe my nerves. In reality, it only served to worsen them.

I settled on 'lunch-date casual' as I announced to the slinking fur ball who was weaving between my legs, begging for attention; a white shirt, light grey blazer, blue jeans and a pair of boots. I thanked whatever divine being was listening for the  good hair day that I was having.

_'Outside, blondie xx'_

My heart skipped a beat and I bit my lip. I set some food down for the cat and grabbed my shoulder bag before locking up and wandering down to meet Harry. My palms were slippery as I gripped the handrail, avoiding the elevator lest it made my heartbeat stop entirely.

I reached the door that would lead me out to whatever this was. I hesitated, my hand inches from the handle, before I shook off the feeling and opened the door, winter sun glaring as I exited the building.

He was nowhere to be seen. I waited, for what seemed like an hour, and I gave up. I turned to go back in, arms crossed over my chest in irritation, and clicked my tongue. Why had I believed this would be any better? How naive could one person be? Ignoring the stinging sensation build in my eyes, and the heaviness of my chest, I made for the door.

"You could've told me which bloody door it was!" A familiar voice sounded. I heard footsteps and a rhythmic clicking sound approach, and I turned to see wide green eyes and a cheeky, lopsided grin approach me. Harry walked slowly, relying more on the crutch than I'd seen him do so in a while, which caused a flash of concern to collide with me - what exactly had happened to him? However, the grim feeling of disappointment fell away and left me with a smile. I shook my head in disbelief, wiped the back of my hand over my eyes and wandered over to meet him halfway.

"Please don't tell me you were waiting at the side entrance this whole time," I rolled my eyes as he shrugged in response. "You're an absolute idiot." The smile that followed was unavoidable and completely vulnerable. Stuffing my hands into my jean pockets, I looked him over; dark blue jeans, a checked shirt and a plain pair of scuffed Converse. How... rugged.

With a raised brow, he began to talk again. "I hope you don't mind. I already picked out a place to eat. Nothing too fancy, but out of the way..." I nodded, trying to ignore the flush rising on my neck, and gestured for him to lead the way, which he did gladly. He walked slowly, but I didn't mind; this leisurely pace set a lovely atmosphere for our - dare I say it? - first date.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a thousand apologies to how boring this chapter is but i really needed to get some bits out there so that the story would make sense in chapters to come D:
> 
> also, my added humble apologies as to how long this took - i've had so much stress from school my brain is slowly frying 
> 
> i'll try and update when i can so thank you for reading and please leave anything you want in the comments 
> 
> ^-^ <3

The waitress took our orders almost as soon as we sat down. Harry seemed to know her, and they shared a familiar smile that set my stomach on edge - was there history between them? She was quite tall, for a girl, with a sprinkling of freckles over a button nose, and red hair held back in a bobble.

"Alright, I'll be back as soon as possible with that. Nice seeing you again, Harry, and..." she looked me over, a brow raised in what seemed to be mistrust and added "Draco." I clicked my tongue in irritation of her tone, and twiddled my fingers beneath the table as Harry's gaze followed her. Did he invite me out to make a fool out of me?

I felt a foot nudge against mine beneath the table, which caused my attention to flicker upward. Harry was smiling over at me pleasantly, hands holding up his chin as he dissected me with his gaze. "So," I began, looking everywhere but at him, "do you know her?" I heard him laugh and could picture the way he shook his head, glasses jiggling on the end of his nose and too-long strands of hair falling into his eyes, and I almost turned to look at him. Almost.

"Yeah, Ginny and I were together for a few years in school. We just decided that we weren't each other's thing, and parted ways." I gave up - the bittersweet torture of not looking at him came to a prompt halt as I turned to look at him; he was exactly as I'd envisioned. My breath evened out after hearing his explanation. I felt somewhat better that whatever they'd had was over now, dead and gone, never to rise from the dead, to spring from the grave- "Draco?" His voice interrupted my anxious thoughts.

"Sorry, sorry," I shook my head before pushing the hair from my forehead, taking a sip from the glass of water sat before me. I held the glass close to my face, trying to hide my growing flush. "I was just distracted. What were you saying?"

Harry laughed good naturedly, and I couldn't help but suppress my smile, turning it into, at very least, a smirk. His mood was contagious, addictive even. "I was asking about whether or not it was your life long aspiration to work in a coffee shop," he laughed quietly, poking the lemon that bobbed in the top of his Pepsi.

"No," I laughed quietly, watching the small smile that pushed up the corners of his mouth, "I'm still in university. I'm studying ancient history. My lectures don't start for another week, and the job has flexible hours to fit around them." He nodded at learning this new information, and opened his mouth to speak. "I'm actually in th-"

"Foods up!" The most irritating voice sounded, speaking directly over him - almost as if to block what he was saying. I looked up, aiming my most poisonous glare up at the redhead momentarily before reverting back to a lazy smile. "Thank you, Jenny," I slapped the money into her palm, along with a rather generous tip, "now if you wouldn't mind, I'd appreciate some privacy. This is a date, after all."

Harry spat his Pepsi everywhere; out of his nose, all over the floor - everywhere. As he laughed, he clutched his stomach, and rolled about in his chair. The waitress' face turned bright red in frustration, but she couldn't speak rudely to me; I was a well paying customer, after all. She thanked me in an enraged whisper and stormed off.

"Oh, God!" Harry had taken off his glasses and was currently wiping away the tears that had formed in his hysteria, still suffering with a random giggle here and there. "I'm so sorry about her - she was waiting for the right moment to interrupt." I waved it off and looked down at the food in front of me. I'd opted for a lightly cooked piece of salmon, boiled new potatoes with a small salad on the side. I picked up a fork, using the side to cut off a small piece of fish before beginning to eat.

Harry got out a few giggles around eating his food, which was a rather large burger, complete with fries, onion rings, and God knows what else surrounding it. "As I was saying," he murmured, wiping the back of his hand over his mouth, "I'm actually in the army myself. I figured that if I wasn't doing something I was good at, I wasn't doing the right thing."

My eyes widened at the information I'd been provided with. Army? I guess it suited him, from what little I'd been able to gather about him. "I should've guessed," I smirked into my glass as I took a sip, before digging in to my bland food again.

"What do you want to do with your degree?" he questioned. I shrugged, putting down my cutlery, neatly aligned on my plate. "Ideally, I would like to do my doctorate, but the further I get into my third year, the worse that prospect seems..." I sighed at the reminder. Harry's hand all but flew across the table, lightly covering mine with one covered in tan skin and tiny scars.

"I'm sure you can do it. I mean, we're here and you lost my number twice. So, yanno, if nothing else, it shows you've got luck on your side." I looked up at him, and was gasped at his gaze; even though I barely knew him, he looked completely convinced I'd do whatever I wanted. "I hope so," I laughed, though I knew I was just kidding myself - my parents would never let me get that far...

"Do you want dessert?" He suddenly chimed in. I shook my head, declining the offer; the food here didn't much suit my taste. Having already paid, we stood, and began to exit. I felt the air near my hand disrupt. I smiled. So he was thinking about holding my hand. In the same instance, I reached over and took his hand in mine, twining our fingers together. He gave out a puff of surprise, but I only smiled and held open the door for him.

We walked in silence for a little while, strolling slowly along the path in the winter sun. His hand was warm, burningly so, and strong, and it didn't make me feel uncomfortable at all. I smiled, shielding my eyes from the sun as I looked over to him. He was walking as quickly as he could manage with his crutch, but it seemed to be uncomfortable for him. "Would you like to sit in the park?" I gestured left with my thumb, and he nodded, smiling gratefully.

After crossing the road, we found a quiet spot near the edge of the park that was surrounded by trees, and nearby, the sound of a tinkling fountain could be heard. "Oh, how cliché," I rolled my eyes, prompting a laugh from the other man who'd already sat down, crutch leaning on the bench beside him. He must've thought I was staring, because he offered me an apologetic smile and gestured for me to sit beside him. I did so obligingly.

"You must wonder about it," he nodded toward the crutch almost sadly. I frowned, not wanting to push him into an explanation, but at the same time unable to quell my interest. I nodded reluctantly. I felt him shuffle a little closer to me, so much so that our legs were touching, and he leaned forward, resting elbows on knees. "I got shot," Harry admitted, which was blatantly difficult for him. A strange emotion rolled over me, something close to sympathy, but I stopped myself; how could I even begin to imagine what it must be like, fighting for your life? "I- I got discharged at the end of June, and I've been seeing a therapist ever since. For some reason, they've diagnosed me with PTS. I don't feel stressed at all."

I looked over at him, his mouth wide in a grin and shook my head, pushing the hair from my face again. I'd have to remember to get it cut. "How can you be so calm? That's pretty serious," I murmured, looking down at my hands. He snorted and shrugged, leaning back in the bench, arms lazily held behind his head. "It's not true, that's why I can take it so lightly. I can't walk properly because I got shot. Not because of some stupid illness." I didn't dare challenge him again; I felt awful enough as it is. Time to change the topic.

"So, Jenny..." I began, and he burst out into hysterics once more, most likely remembering the scene from earlier. "Ginny, Ginevra Weasley, if you must know," he started to speak as he regained his senses, "is, yes, a lesbian." So I'd been right to assume that this was what he meant when he'd mentioned they weren't particularly suited. I nodded knowingly, and sighed as a light breeze brushed over us. "What about you? Any girlfriends?" Harry asked, smirking.

"One, once. A while ago," I leaned back beside him and looked at the obscured sky that rolled out in all directions over us. I closed my eyes, allowing myself to be soothed by the sun's warmth before I continued. "We were engaged, actually." I didn't have to look at him to see his jaw drop open. I smirked myself before continuing. "It was sort of my parent's fault. They- uh, I guess they're pretty important? And they were good friends with some other influential family, and thought the daughter and I were 'well suited'." "Hang on - your parents set you up?" I laughed at that, his phrasing so simple and amusing. "You could say. Astoria was lovely, but she lacked something crucial." Harry grinned childishly before answering for me.

"A dick?" I laughed but nodded. "Must've been rough to tell her. And your parents. I mean, they know, don't they?" My teeth grazed my lip nervously before I sat up straight again. "No, they don't. Astoria covered for me, as it were, when I demanded to go to university before even considering a wedding, but she didn't tell them. And I guess I haven't gotten around to it either."

His jaw dropped again. Had he really thought I'd be so brave as to tell my parents? "So they have no idea?" I shook my head, amused at his confusion. "Absolutely none." I opened my mouth to add that I had no intention of ever telling them when his phone rang. Offering me a mouthed 'sorry' he answered it. "Hello? Oh. Mhm," I looked past him, at a couple who were feeding the ducks with their child, entirely carefree. Admittedly, I got absorbed in the moment, and jumped out of my skin when Harry placed a hand to my shoulder, already stood up. "I have to go. I'll walk you home, if you like."

I thought about declining, considering his impediment, but I found myself wanting to optimise our time together and nodded, taking the hand outstretched to me. My apartment wasn't too far away, and we chatted easily on the way back. Stopping outside the doors, our hands parted all too soon, and I smiled at him. "So, I guess I'll see you again? I mean, if you want to..." Harry's expression reeked of nervousness; he was as vulnerable as me in this situation. I nodded quickly, promising to text him and was rewarded with a grin and - much to my surprise - his lips pressed against my cheek. Although he had to lean up to reach, the spot that he'd kissed burned pleasantly, and my face flushed. "I-I'll text you," I stammered, one hand over the spot he'd touched, almost as if to keep the feeling for as long as possible, before I climbed the stairs to my apartment.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the prolonged absence :c 
> 
> Exam season is upon us and workloads are insane 
> 
> Have a bit of drivel to make up for my hiatus and expect more 
> 
> Please enjoy <3

Work was heaving and the prospect of another too warm, too slow shift loomed. Pansy had called in sick, but privately informed Blaise and I that she was in fact going to a festival, and knew Snape wouldn't give her the time off that she needed. Blaise had thought this plan ingenious, but I knew she'd get caught out - especially since Snape had called her house during his lunch break to check up on her, and her mother had told him where she was.

Returning change to the woman stood in front of me, I went about making her order. The cafe was packed; a couple sat near the window, their baby screaming; a group of giggling girls kept looking over at Blaise and smiling, and then to me before looking away; Snape cleaned tables as he went. Even though the work was quick and easy, I felt a lead-like feeling spread in my limbs and my motivation die out as I worked. Blaise noted this and, in his typically insensitive style, asked about it.

"Green eyed wonder still not answered you?" He teased, and although I knew he was only trying to lighten my mood, it only served to further irritate me. I cracked my knuckles and leaned back against the counter, thanking God that there were no customers coming in yet. "As it happens, Blaise," I began, my voice sharper than I'd intended, "no he hasn't. It's been a week..."

And it had. From the moment he'd left me with a burning kiss seared into my cheek, right through the week up until now, I'd heard nothing from Harry at all. I'd called, texted - even emailed - but there was no answer. At first it was easy to understand - he had other commitments beside me, after all.But as the days wore on, my anxiety flared more and more, and my mind began to analyse the details of our first meeting; had I been too pushy? Too rude? Perhaps I'd been insensitive toward him in some way. Maybe he just wasn't that into me. I reread our texts but there wasn't anything that I could find that would warrant such ignorance.

My anxiety didn't pass, but it created a constant feeling of heaviness; I didn't want to get up in the morning, cooking dinner was a chore I tried to put off, and going out had all but become impossible. Blaise must've noticed, because concern shone in his eyes as he studied me.

"Go home, Malfoy," Snape's voice resonated behind me, so sudden I jumped and knocked the straws from the counter. "No need, sir," I murmured as I bent to pick up the mess, "I have another two hours left of my shift. It's still afternoon, and it doesn't seem to be quieting down any time soon." Crossing his arms over his chest, my employer looked down warily at me, one brow raised below a lock of dark, greasy hair that had escaped the small bun he'd tied it into. "You're not fit for work, clearly. Come back on Monday. Take the weekend off, and make sure you clear your head. Shoo."

Blaise made a motion depicting what I assumed was he'd text me as I made my way back into the small staff room. I threw my apron into the wash basket - one of the new girls, Lavender, had been stuck with wash duty - and sat down for a moment in a worn chair, grabbing my bag from beneath it and checking my texts.

A small light flashed on the corner of my phone, green and blinking. A text. I unlocked the device quickly, diving straight into my texts to see if it was from him. Sure enough, his name was highlighted. I clicked to open the message. ' _Sorry for no contact. Been away. Speak soon. Sorry'._

My hand flew up to my mouth and I bit into the edge of my thumb as a strange feeling crept up my throat. What had I been expecting? I chided myself. Shoving the phone back into my bag, I got up, stiff tension racking my frame, muscles taught beneath my clothes as I strode out. Again, this development didn't go unseen by my friend, who manically mimed texting me, and in return, I gave him a single curt nod. Before I could reach the door, Snape caught my hand and thrust a large to-go coffee cup into my hand. He wore an unreadable expression, and I smiled gently, thanking him before leaving. "It's still coming out of your pay, Malfoy!" He called behind me, and I could just envision him shaking his cleaning rag at me as I left.

For someone who didn't actually make coffee, there was no denying that Severus Snape was the best barista in the establishment. I sipped at the warm liquid, and found it to not be coffee; instead, my favourite bitter hot chocolate scolded my tongue pleasantly. I could taste the cream and, an usual quirk of mine, cinnamon. I don't know exactly what happened, but before I knew it, I was back at the apartment, sprawled out on my bed with a belly full of the most delicious drink on the planet and a tear stained, snotty face.

Why had I gotten my hopes up? It's not like I'd even really known the bloke, after all. I'd just gotten too attached, seeing something in him that probably wasn't there. On my bedside table, my phone buzzed and I knew it was Blaise, enquiring about how I was. I ignored it and decided to take a bath instead. Beans mewed beside me, and I reached over to pat his ginger head gently. He took the steps forward, rubbed his face against mine and then decided my face looked like an amazing place to place his stretching paws, digging his claws into my cheek. Bloody animal. I had to smile at him, though, as he meowed at me in complaint.

I grabbed a book from the shelf, my phone from the table and walked into the bathroom that was attached to my bedroom, putting the taps on to run and warm up. I looked into the already steamy mirror and noticed that Beans' claws had actually done some damage; a delicate scratch marred my eyebrow, matted lightly with a faint trickle of blood. I cursed at the feline, but he was too content rolling on my pillow to care.

My phone flashed and vibrated rapidly, and I flipped it over to see my mother calling. "Hello, mother," I answered warily; my parents didn't call for no reason. "Draco, dear," she crooned fondly, the warmth of her words welcome, "how are you? You sound so fed up and I've only heard you speak two words. Is it a bad time?"

I smiled slightly and shook my head regardless of the fact she couldn't see it. "No, just been a long week is all mother. How's things at home?" I sat for five minutes on the edge of the bath, stopping the taps when they were done as I listened to her week, the awful book meeting she'd been to and how father had held a dinner party to entertain prospective business associates. "Honestly, sweetheart. Some of those men and their language - I think even the peacocks were disgusted." I couldn't help but laugh. "When are you coming to visit, love?" Narcissa asked quietly, as if handling a china cup with care. "Soon, mother, I promise. I've got a few days off now, until Monday. Perhaps I'll catch a bus up to-" "No need, Draco. I'll have a driver sent. You're only an hour away, after all," she interrupted, her eagerness evident. "Well, considering it's Wednesday now, perhaps Friday?" "Absolutely, honey! I can't wait to- Oh, your father is calling. I must be off then. Friday - it's a date. I love you, Draco," she told me matter-of-factly. "Love you too, mother," I laughed softly, and hung up.

Mood greatly improved, I undressed quickly and slid into the tub. My skin turned red from the heat but I enjoyed it. I washed quickly, hair, face and body, and read for an hour or so; Beans came to fetch me at dinnertime, and was seriously contemplating jumping into the bath until I decided now would be a great time to stop ignoring him - fur and water made a disgusting mixture.

I dried off quickly and slipped into pyjama trousers; I wasn't going anywhere tonight. My towel dangled around my shoulders and I set to looking in the fridge for what to cook for myself tonight after feeding the clearly underfed cat - not. I was interrupted by my phone buzzing loudly again, and muttered curses under my breath; Blaise's spam texts to get my attention were so annoying.

' _All ok loser? Snape was worried lol. But srs hope ur ok, see u monday. -B_ ' The fact he'd signed the text still irritated me - I told him I knew it was him, and he insisted it was habit. "And it looks cool," he'd added. I replied quickly. ' _Need some time to relax and recalibrate. Quiet day tomorrow, parent's Friday and quiet weekend. Have a good one._ '

My stomach grumbled in protest and for the second time, I made my way into the kitchen in search of dinner. The fridge was basically empty and the freezer was in the same condition. I lost the will to eat, and didn't have the effort to order in anyway. I sat down on the sofa, hearing Beans choke down his dinner and grumbled in annoyance before switching on the TV for some background noise.

*                                                                                                                             *                                                                                                              *

I was woken from my nap not long after I'd fallen asleep accidentally. My door buzzer was being pressed in the most irritating way - either being held repeatedly or pressed rapidly -, meaning it was either Blaise trying to drag me out or a Mormon wanting to talk about the Lord. I trudged over to the buzzer and opened my end of the line. "Hello?" I spoke around a yawn, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. "Draco? It's Harry. Can- can I come up?"


End file.
